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Before Sunrise

In the dark many bird voices call,

The trees and the springs murmur noisily,

In the clouds a rose-colored glow sounds

Like early love's distress. The night blues away -

With shy hands the twilight softly polishes

The love lair, feverishly stirred up,

And lets the drunkenness of languished kisses end

In dreams, smiling and felt half-awake.

poem by Georg Trakl
Added by Poetry Lover
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